Lonely Christmas
by Angel of Neptune
Summary: It's the first Christmas after Jean's death and Scott looks back at past experiences while discovering the story behind the legendary bird known as the Phoenix due to a strange gift. R&R Complete


**Lonely Christmas**

**X-Men: The Movie**

**Angel of Neptune**

**888**

**DC: I do not own X-Men.**

**AN: I was going through random reviews and the ones I read from the ficlet, _No Regrets_ made me want to write more Scott/Jean ficlets. Heh, I never really was a fan of Jean until recently, actually. I watched the trailer for X-3 and she just blew my mind away. Yeah. Wow. I'm slowly starting to like Jean. :)**

**Consider this my Christmas gift to my readers. :) You guys keep my going with every single review you send. Keep up with the awesome feedback! 3 (Would this be a good time to say that I am in need of a couple new editors? Heh…)**

**If you want to see more Scott/Jean, then make sure to check out _My Big Mistake_. I plan to have a little Scott/Jean in later chapters when I work her more into the plot. Enjoy!**

**888**

It was such a festive time; a joyous time. It was a time to be celebrating with your close family and friends; those who love you, those you care for. Sadly, this isn't always the case for some. For some it was a bitter reminder of what they could have had, or what they lost. Within the walls of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, it was a mixture of both. Students enjoyed having a nice holiday among each other, glad that they are being accepted among each other, while at the same time, they miss the lives they once had before their X-Gene had kicked in. Most of the students had loving caring families, most of which whom did not tolerate mutants.

They've tried to keep these thoughts privates, especially on Christmas Eve. Now simply wasn't the moment to be worrying over these problems. There were at peace for the time being. There were no protestors spitting at them, declaring them mutant scum. No, this fine evening, it did not matter if they were mutants or not; they were enjoying each other companies.

The students were more than willingly to do their share of their decorating. Of course, the adults were left to do the outside work, dealing with the lights and the electrical props while the students themselves decorated the interior of the mansion to the fullest extent possible, especially the mighty sturdy tree. They took pride in that tree, topping it off with the most beautiful ornaments and colorful lights, but they could not decide whether to place the massive star or the peaceful angel on the very top of the tree. It had been a long argument among them; in the end, they ended up it placing both the star and the angel of top, then everyone would be pleased.

Now that nearly all the hard work was drawing to a close, warm mugs of hot chocolate were being past around the noisy rec room where they all had gathered. Carefully, they began to sip away at the beverage, trying not to burn their lips from the steaming liquid. A few even picked out the lumps of marshmallows as they waited for their cups to cool off. Standing in the very back of the rec room, Scott Summers was leaning against the wall, watching this all occur. His arms were crossed over his chest; a constant frown was always drawn upon his face now of days, not to mention, he was always wearing black clothing to show that he was still mourning the lost of his loved one.

The field leader of the X-Men brought the rim of the mug he had just received from one of the younger students and brought it to his lips. The steam instantly fogged his glasses, warming his nose and cheeks. He sipped away at the hot chocolate; he would careless that it was blazing hot and would burn his lips. He had been pretty careless of the course of the last couple of months, ever since he lost that one true person that he cared about. Hell, he didn't really want to be down here at the moment. Ororo, the school's only weather witch, told him to stop being Mr. Scrooge and to celebrate with the rest of the staff and kids.

But he didn't want to celebrate. Christmas was never really a major part of his life growing up. For the longest time, Scott spent the holidays in the orphanage he grew up at alone. No one was treated with love, no one was shown care. When he was there, his mutation had kicked in; a mutation he couldn't control. He spent months with his eyes closed, being blind until Xavier found him and brought him back to the mansion.

He remembered his first Christmas at the mansion very clearly. It brought a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. Jean and he were friends, close friends, back then. It was very enjoyable; they were both teenagers playing around in the snow, making snowmen, snow angels, and the works. Back in the day when they actually had privacy, of course, they were the only two students in the entire school. He remembered Jean getting him this rather hideous bright yellow and blue sweater. Even to this day, he wasn't exactly sure what Jean had been thinking when she bought the sweater to begin with, but he still treasured it regardless.

The soft tunes of a piano came to his ears, causing him to slightly turn his head towards his right where he saw the white haired weather goddess sitting at the piano bench. Scott shook his head; he was going to sit here and listen to Christmas tunes. He wasn't in the mood to hear the younger students sing a long to Jingle Bells or Rudolph, not tonight. Blowing into his mug in an attempt to cool the beverage, he dismissed himself upstairs, just as the kids began their little tune:

'_Dashing through the snow_

_In a one-horse open sleigh_

_O'er the field we go_

_Laughing all the way…_'

Jingle bells was one of Jean's favorite Christmas carols, Scott reminded himself as he pushed the door to his bedroom suite, one that he use to share with his caring fiancé until just a few months ago when she… He sighed heavily as he entered the large room that once use to be decorated with fancy antiques was now plain and boring. Ever since Jean… died, he did a little redecorating of his own. The antiques weren't cutting it for him; they were a constant reminder of what he lost; what he allowed to slip through his fingers. He could have saved her if he tried, he could have. Redecorating the room made me feel like he was slowly coming to terms with her death.

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed covered with pure white sheets; sheets that use to be a dark maroon coloring with golden laces. God, he hated those sheets with a passion. Those laces against his bare flesh made his skin crawl, but Jean just loved them; she _had_ to have them or it would have been the end of the world. He kept the fancy dressers, of course. He didn't dare try to move those massive things. He didn't want to risk breaking a backbone or something to that extent, so he merely cleared off the tops and left them bare.

Carefully, he took another sip of the hot chocolate before setting it aside on the nightstand next to the framed photograph of Jean and he at the beach together, sitting in the white sand. That photograph was taken in Hawaii, nearly the only vacation they had taken without any interruptions from the X-Men, two weeks on the beach without a care… He didn't seem out of place at all. Everyone was wearing sunglasses; he blended in for the first time in ages. He missed it.

Speaking of glasses, Scott closed his eyes tightly as he took them off. Feeling around until he felt the proper draw, he drew it open. He placed the folded up glasses inside and pulled out a grey visor, strapping it to his face. Ah, the trusty visor… It was less of a hassle then the glasses. He didn't have to worry about them flying off at the slightly nudge from a random person. No, it took more than that to make these babies fly off, which was proven when he and Jean spent the nights 'together'.

A small smirk came to his face as he stood up, walking towards the window, which had frosted over due to the cold weather and snow. He stretched his arms over his head as he suppressed a deep yawn, "Bells of bob-tail ring… Making spirits bright…" Scott lazily mumbled to himself. "What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight…"

Jean would practically parade around the mansion with so many different Christmas decorations, humming along to the song in many different versus. She loved Christmas. She came from a loving family: a father, a mother, a sister. Not to mention, she constantly attended family reunions around the holidays. The holidays for Jean were extremely enjoyable and he had the _pleasure_ of experiencing one of these Christmases.

One year, Jean begged and pleaded for him to go back to her parents' home for the holiday, saying that they deserved a small break from all the chaos the X-Men were dealing with. Unfortunately, Scott gave in and they went. Scott knew very well that Professor Grey did not enjoy his company at all, but he thought that would all change during this little trip. At first, things seemed to be going alright. Professor Grey and he played a few rounds on one-on-one; he was still a pretty decent player at his age. However, something went horribly wrong during Christmas dinner. He wasn't exactly sure what, but his once future-father-in-law had gone suddenly cold.

Scott scoffed lightly as he took a gulp of the drink. He could honestly care less about what Professor Grey thought. He loved Jean; that's all that mattered. He knew that John Grey understood and that he couldn't change that no matter how long he was going to give his once future-son-in-law the cold shoulder for who knows what reason.

But now he didn't have to worry about getting along with John Grey… because Jean was gone. She wasn't coming back. Scott swallowed a lump in his throat. It was hard to accept the fact, but it was better then believing empty lies. Her death was still fresh in his mind. He still expected her to walk through those bedroom doors; he still expected to hear her soft thoughts mix in with his own, such a phenomenal sensation it was… There personal feelings coming together as one… Not to mention, she would randomly send dirty jokes to him during the most important of all meetings.

He couldn't help up chuckle softly. The Professor got upset at the both of them because of their fooling around. It was very un-X-Men like to goof off during these important sessions, or so claims Xavier. Of course, they had got away with it a few times. It was pretty difficult to keep a straight face. Jean always tried her best to get him to crack. She would feel so accomplish when she saw the corner of Scott's lips twitch when Xavier was lecturing them.

_Scott, the others are wondering where you have taken off to._ Xavier's voiced filled his head. _The students are ready to exchange presents, do you wish to re-join us?_

Scott held his breath for a short second. He gazed towards the peach carpet of the room, slowly pondering things over to himself. You know what? Sure, he'd go back down. It would be better than staying up here alone.

_Yeah, Professor. I'll be down in a minute._

He picked up the mug of hot chocolate and finished it off, the warm beverage warmed his throat as he stood up. Scott stretched his arms over his head again as he released a yawn this time. Placing the mug back down on the nightstand, he left the bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Waiting for him at the end of the stairs was the one and only Ororo Munroe. She smiled lightly at him as he took the last few steps, "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch." She teased, folding her arms over her chest.

Scott smirked lightly, "She would have wanted me to enjoy myself, huh?"

Ororo nodded, "Yeah, she would have."

"It's just hard, you know?"

"I know…"

"Never really thought that she would… She would… _die_."

The weather witch placed a ginger hand on his shoulder caressingly, trying to comfort Scott in this time of distress. Jean had been one of her close friends. She knew exactly how he felt. "I know, Scott." She spoke softly. "We all miss her too, you know…"

"I know…"

"Come on…" Her hand trailed down his arm and firmly grabbed his wrist as she tried to pull him along. "You have presents under the tree that have your name written all of them. Just celebrate with us for a while, it will do you some good."

It was very faint, but it was still there… On his face, Scott was smiling lightly in return as he allowed Ororo to drag him along back to the rec room. She was right. It _would_ do him some good. He hadn't really spoken to any of the students outside the classroom in the longest while ever. Heck, at least he was teaching his classes again.

Scott followed Ororo to the rec room where both adults took a seat at the couch. The students gazed up for a split silent second, but quickly returned to their individual conversations. Scott glanced at Ororo who flashed him a soft smile as she patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Mr. Summers, would you like a gingerbread cookie?" The southern bella, Rogue offered, holding out a glimmering sliver tray. "Jubes, Kit-Kat, and Ah worked all afternoon on them."

"Yeah, sure." Scott replied, adjusting himself on the couch slightly as he took one of the gingerbread men on the tray. The corner of Rogue's lips twitched lightly as she watched him nibble on the arm of the innocent gingerbread man. "I didn't know you cooked… err… baked." He corrected himself, raising an eyebrow as he continued to pick at the cookie.

Rogue placed the tray of cookies on the coffee table; instantly the other students dashed to retrieve one for themselves. She shrugged her shoulders, "It's something Ah picked up being here, Ah guess. Ah never went near the kitchen back… home."

"You're pretty good." Scott complimented. "The three of you did a fantastic job…"

"Hey, Mr. Summers!" Jubilee shouted over the chatter of her fellow classmates. The young teenager was crawling carefully under the massive Christmas tree. She peek her head out from the bottom, trying to avoid the dangling lights and ornaments, "I found a very tiny package for ya!" She stated proudly, as if she were a young child who just accomplished a simple task. Kitty Pryde and she had been handing out the gifts under the tree all night. Most of Scott were in a small pile off to the side near one of the armchairs.

"And it, like, doesn't say who it's from either. Huh… strange." Kitty added, examining the small brown package in Jubilee's hands. "Like, whoever it's fun, they poorly, like, wrapped it for sure."

Scott lifted an eyebrow as he eyed the little package. It wasn't addressed? That was rather odd. "Toss it over, Jubes."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Summers." Jubilee replied as she threw the package straight up in the air.

Instantly, Ororo reacted. Her hand jerked forward towards the brown box. She summoned up a small gust of wind, cushioning the package as it carried it gently over to the man sitting next to her. After Scott took the object into his own hand, Ororo lowered her own back onto her lap.

Kitty was right. There was no tag or anything. It just simply said 'Scott,' written in a handwriting he had never seen before in his life. He quickly unwrapped it, revealing a small dark blue box. He knew very well that he was being watched by a handful of people in the room; he took off the lid from the box and pulled out a…

A keychain?

Scott frowned lightly as he held the keychain up to his eye level. The golden chain and frame flickered as the bright red ruby jeweled emblem of a bird glowed dimly. Heh, what an odd gift, but it was a bit neat looking, of course.

"The Phoenix…" Ororo murmured to herself, smiling lightly. "It's a pretty keychain, Scott."

"Yeah, but who could have given it to me?" Scott questioned. Who wouldn't want to be recognized as the giver of this absolutely gorgeous gift? He silently pondered to himself as the chatter began once more.

"Miss Munroe, did you say something about a phoenix?" Jubilee asked.

"The Phoenix, Jubes." Ororo corrected.

"Like, I feel a history lesson coming on." Kitty murmured.

Ororo shot her a glare but just simply shook her head, "The Phoenix is a legendary bird, a legend that has been around for centuries." She began to explain to those who cared to listen. The weather witch knew very well that most of the students weren't too keen about the subject for history. "To put it in basic terms: The Phoenix is a very supernatural being that lives for a thousand years. Once this time is over, the majestic bird builds its own funeral pyre and then throws itself into the flames-"

"It commits suicide?" Rogue interrupted. "Now why would it go and do that for?"

"It's not what you think." Ororo replied. "After it dies, it is then reborn. It rises from the ashes to live another thousand years. Alternatively, it lays an egg in the burning coals which hatches into a new Phoenix and the life cycle continues."

"Huh. Rather interesting." Jubilee mumbled, blowing a bubble with her chew gum before returning to the Christmas tree where Jean-Paul was poking around at the different decorations, bickering that the colors simply didn't clash together right.

Rogue smiled at her two teachers before she and Kitty went off to the other side of the rec room to join Bobby. Scott stood up and yawned lightly. Ororo gazed up at him.

"I haven't really… been sleeping much lately, you know." Scott murmured, rubbing the back of his head. Ororo nodded, completely understanding as she stood up herself.

"I'm pretty tired myself now that I think about it." She answered, folding her arms over her chest as she lead them towards the stairs.

As they climbed the stairs, Scott got an uneasy feeling in his gut, "Umm, Ororo? Do you know anything else about the Phoenix… How did the legend itself started?" He asked.

Ororo got to the top of the stairs and continued walking at a slow pace, more than happy to answer her friend's question, "There are many theories about the origins of the Phoenix, as you can probably already guess." She shrugged. "One states that it was a bright colored bird that was traded over from Asia which was sold to a foreign land. They made up wild stories, claiming the bird to have powers in hopes of raising the price. There is another that states someone saw a mere peacock backlit by the setting son, which made the bird look like it was on fire. There is a bizarre rumor that says the 'Phoenix' could have been a crow or raven dancing in a dying flame."

"Being a history teacher, which do you believe in?"

"Being a history teacher, _Mister_ Summers, I believe that there are many different theories; I look at things with more than one point of view." Ororo answered honestly. "It's a legend, Scott… I wouldn't think too hard about it, you know?"

The two adults came to a stop in front of the Summers-Grey's bedroom suite. Scott stared at the keychain once more before tucking it away in his pocket, "I won't. I promise." He smiled again, flashing his white teeth slightly.

Ororo giggled under her breath silently as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Merry Christmas, Scott…"

"Merry Christmas, Ororo." He replied, hugging her also before taking a step back.

"Sleep well… I'll see you in the morning." She said before she started to walk towards the attic. "Who knows? Maybe we'll all wake up to a snowy Christmas Day…"

"Gee, what are the chances of _that _happening?" Scott retorted, entering the bedroom.

Scott leaned against the door he closed behind himself. A soft sigh escaped him as he pulled the keychain back out from his pocket, dangling in front of his sight. The Phoenix… Who could have given it to him? Especially with this color pattern… Red and gold like the sheets Jean just had to have on their bed, even if it clashed horrible with everything else in the room. She was just attracted to those two colors. Scott shook his head lightly as he set the keychain on the nightstand as he laid down on the bed.

"Merry Christmas, Jean…" He murmured to himself.

**The End**

**_An: I couldn't wait for the 25th to roll around, so I posted this ficlet up now. I'm sure you guys don't mind, right? ;)_**

_**I hope you all have a joyous holiday season:) Best wishes!**_


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